


stardust in our veins

by SnowWolf5552



Series: Original Works [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Execution, F/M, Gen, Implied Insanity, Implied Sexual Content, Kidnapping, Nudity, Original Character Death(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Apocalypse, Rating May Change, Shady Medicine, Slavery, Swearing, Torture, like over 300 years after, quasi-medieval fantasy post-apocalyptic world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWolf5552/pseuds/SnowWolf5552
Summary: Sage Eastoak is a bastard with little to her name and one sickly relative. After a hunting trip goes awry, everything else follows. Sage ends up without friends and afraid in a hostile world, but not everything is as it seems. It's time to uncover the secrets behind her parents and who she truly is. Dark things lurk in the shadows of the truth, however - will Sage be able to stay sane and stay strong long enough to discover her heritage?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the story that has been making me procrastinate on everything else. I'll update every Tuesday.
> 
> Title inspired by _93 Percent Stardust_ by Nikita Gills.

The huntress crept through the bushes, careful not to startle her prey. She stepped out of the foliage, drawing back an arrow. She inhaled quietly and let loose. The arrow hit its mark, colorful blue feathers sprouting from the doe's neck.

The animal spasmed for a moment before crumpling to the ground. The bushes behind her rustled and emerged two other hunters, tall and wiry. One of them had his brows raised as he let out a whistle.

"Good catch, Sage," said Sparrow Frosthorn appreciatively. He slung his bow over his back and moved over to the kill. The other man, Badger Rosecreek, nodded in her direction.

Sage Eastoak felt a smile crawl across her face at that. Badger rarely ever talked to her and barely looked her in the face. To get even a nod from him was special, at the least. The trio made quick work at pulling the arrow from the doe and carrying the beast between them.

It wasn't long before they got back to their cabin, which they were sharing with a trapper, who trapped mostly for fur, which made good insulation in clothing. It would be a boon during the colder months. Badger and Sparrow pulled the doe onto a wooden pad out the back, getting ready to clean it and cut it into sections to take back to their village, a tiny dot on the map in the middle of a small valley by the name of Ashton.

Their village was relatively small but well-sized. However, it was isolated in the mountains. If one wanted to go to a bigger city, it would take up to a week to get down and another week to actually travel to the next closest city, Kingsworth. The group of hunters was barely out of the valley itself. The valley was round and bowl-shaped, making it difficult to leave and enter. It used to have a tunnel, but it had collapsed some fifty years past.

 _There is someone working to restore the tunnel,_  Sage reminded herself as she walked inside the cabin. Maple Silentgrove, the professional trapper of the group, waved and smiled at her as she passed. The other woman continued her sewing as Sage collapsed in her cot.

"How do you feel about the Festival of Light?" Maple asked randomly, her red hair dancing about her face as she settled her needle through the cloth. Her intense gray eyes were focused on the cloth but Sage could see that her brow was no longer furrowed in concentration nor was her lips in a grimace.

Sage shrugged. "I'm not sure. I just want to get back so if my grandmother dies, I'll be by her side," She saw Maple wince slightly, but she wasn't sure if she had pricked herself or if it was in sympathy.

Sage's grandmother, Lily Eastoak, had been ailing for many years. They'd tried everything from herbal remedies to leeches. Nothing worked and her grandmother was in the twilight hours of her life. /I hope she'll be able to survive this next festival,/ Sage thought, lacing her fingers together.

Two hours later, Sage had two hares tied to her belt, two deer haunches slung over her shoulder and a brace of fish in one hand. The group moved down the narrow hunter's trail, which soon joined the main path from the collapsed tunnel to the village. She soon saw the torches on the perimeter of the village, which brought a feeling of relief. Her shoulders relaxed instinctively at the sight of the flickering flames.

The brunette walked into the town. Two different people took the deer, hares, and fish from her, preparing for the feast in the morning. Neither of them made eye contact. The woman, who wore the apron of a butcher, had a grim look on her face. A sinking feeling formed in her chest as she barreled down the street and saw the door of her and her grandmother's house wide open.

Sage swallowed and headed inside. A herbwoman stood next to her grandmother's ailing body. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes were dull. Sage maneuvered over to her, kneeling by her bedside. "Gran," she whispered softly, taking Lily's old, wrinkled hand in hers.

The older woman smiled up at the ceiling. "Sage," she whispered softly. "I need to tell you something," Sage lifted her head, blinking in slight shock. "Your father... he was an important man. Very important. Your mother and he could not get married, as much as they wanted to," Lily told her, becoming more and more listless. "But I don't know his name. I am sorry. However, he left your mother something, and by proxy, you," The old woman struggled to lift her other hand and eventually pressed an amulet into Sage's hand.

The stone was cool in her hand as she opened her fingers. The gem was primarily a milky white, with green, blue, and red shooting through it and glinted pleasantly in the candlelight. _This is an opal,_  Sage realized with a jolt. She felt her grandmother's hand go slack as Lily Eastoak expired.

Sage swallowed and blinked back tears as the herbwoman wiped the sweat from Lily's now peaceful face. She slipped the necklace over her head, letting the stone rest in the hollow between her breasts. The brunette pressed a kiss to her grandmother's hand and left. There would be time to mourn later.

* * *

Sage was nudged awake by a dog, which she batted away gently, careful not to hit the creature. "It's time for your grandmother's pyre," Maple said, looming over her. The redhead pulled her up and handed her some bread. "Hurry! We shouldn't spoil the festival with a funeral,"

She groaned and shoved the bread into her mouth, chewing as she pulled on her boots and laced up her vest. Maple hurried out, her little dog hot on her heels. Sage ran down the rickety wooden stairs, feeling them rattle in her bones. The young woman quickly braided her hair into a faux hawk as she moved down the path after Maple.

Sage arrived panting to the ceremony. The herbwoman that had presided over Lily's body handed her a torch, which she took. Maple stood a respectable distance away, as she had not known Sage's grandmother, nor was she blood-related. The brunette set fire to the pyre and watched her grandmother's body go up in flame.

She was the last to leave, gathering an urn of ashes to spread to the winds later. Sage put it on a shelf in her apartment in the boarding house and tried to enjoy the festival. She sampled food from a Kripani man, gagging on the spices while the vendor laughed and gave her milk to cool her tongue. She had taken said drink and gulped it down greedily.

She drank ale spiced with cinnamon and mint, possibly too much of it during the evening, as the world began to tilt and blur past. The rest of the day rushed past her senses and Sage woke in a room that wasn't hers, nearly naked from the waist up, and a pounding headache. Another woman was snoring on the bed, someone Sage hardly recognized.

Sighing, she rolled off the bed and gathered her clothing. The young woman quickly pulled on her clothes before tiptoeing out. It turned out to be the apartment above hers, so she simply went down the stairs, wincing in the light and at any sound. The street was littered with people every few yards and various pieces of trash.

Sage crumpled on her bed, nursing a headache as she boiled chamomile tea. Her wood stove filled the room with a thin veil of smoke. She cursed, jumped up despite the shriek of protest her head made and moved to open the window. Clean air rushed in, letting the smoke billow out.

Sage fiddled with her necklace as she laid back down and closed her eyes. Then, her tea began to boil and she hurried to pour herself a cup. The drink was strong and bitter but tempered her headache. She sighed as the pain receded and put the cup down.

She and some other hunters, trappers, and gatherers would have to go back out again, as the festival had ultimately depleted much of their stores. Sage would be going alone, hopefully getting to get out of the valley. The tunnel to the outside was near completion and anyone who wanted to leave could do so.

Sage rubbed a hand over her face and sighed. _Time to take a bath,_  she thought, moving to the door.

* * *

It took a day to climb to the top of the lowest ridge. Sage was glad she had taken gloves. If she hadn't, she was sure her hands would be bloody and raw. She sat on a relatively flat spot, looking out over the west horizon.

 _I wonder how far I'd need to go to reach the Vast Ocean?_  Sage mused, rubbing her aching hands. She would need to rappel down the other side, which would probably only take ten hours. The young woman quickly unrolled her bed mat, curling up onto it. She had no fire, as there were not enough materials for such a thing this far up.

Sage sighed and soon fell asleep to the sound of the night.

She woke to birdsong and swiftly tied her mat back to her pack before heading over to where the smoothest slide down was. It wasn't particularly steep but was slightly muddy in spots from the rain nearly three days before. Sage grimaced and got ready to slide.

She landed at the bottom with only a few scratches and spots that were already bruising. She, had, unfortunately, lost one of her throwing knives and two of her arrows in the slide. Sage looked up at the ridge and groaned.

"No way to get back up _t_ _here_  again," she mumbled, turning dark, watchful eyes to the forest around her. The young woman fumbled for her map, bringing it out of its waterproof capsule. Northwest of her was a small trading post and hunter's cabin named Wayfarer's Repose. However, it was marked abandoned, making Sage frown.

 _Better than nothing,_  she reasoned to herself. It would take an hour or so to get there if she didn't get lost or backtracked.

Which was exactly what she did. Sage had gotten lost thrice and was forced to backtrack five times. It had taken the better part of the day to get back to the road. By that time, she hadn't even found the Rest and was forced to camp next to the road.

Sage had lit a fire and was nearly asleep when she heard a twig snap. Her exhaustion faded in the span of a breath as a dark figure leaped out at her, a blade in their hand. She rolled out of the way, shouting wordlessly at the silhouette. The knife sank into the mat, a hole now gouged through it.

She crawled on hands and knees towards her shortsword from where it laid on the ground, yanking it from its sheath. The young woman narrowly blocked the blade and spun it in a disarming maneuver. Unluckily, the figure had a strong grip and it did little else than stun him. Sage scrambled to stand up and vaulted over a log into the forest.

She dodged a dogwood tree, leaped over a rock, and slipped down into a ditch. Sage tumbled head over heel and laid face down in the mud. She heard her tail, or what she thought was her tail, pause, then continue on. The young woman forced herself to stay as still as physically possible.

Sage didn't know how long she laid there. She eventually got out of the ditch, walking roughly northeast towards the Repose. The young woman made a sound of relief when she saw the two buildings. She stepped inside the hunting cabin, shivering. It had begun to rain as she busied herself to set a fire and found some new clothes in a box under the bed.

Sage changed into the clothes, leaving her boots and other clothes to dry. She'd be able to scrape off the mud later. Most of her weapons were gone, except her dagger and throwing knives. She wiped them off with a damp cloth before placing them next to the fire as well.

As she sat on the cot, she looked at the opal necklace, which was now in her palm. To her knowledge, there was only one place opals could be mined, and if her father could have afforded one... he'd have to be a very rich man in Vagon. Sage sighed quietly; he was probably already married, which was why her parents never married. _That secret died with my mother,_  she thought unhappily, laying down on the bed.

Her eyelids fluttered shut and she curled up into a fetal position. Within the next several minutes, she was dead asleep.

* * *

When Sage next woke, she found nothing to eat and nothing to drink in the cabin. She scraped the mud from her boots and eased them on, putting out the fire from a bucket that had caught a leak. Her clothes would likely have to be tossed, unfortunately.

The young woman stepped out, deciding to head to the trading post, where there likely was food, clothes, and rope. She barely made it ten feet before a sharp pain flared across the back of her head and her world went dark as she fell to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8/17 Edit: The closest I could find of a necklace that resembles the one Sage is given is [this](https://cdn-img-1.wanelo.com/p/d7f/908/5dc/bca822415f37374b0c501bf/x354-q80.jpg).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to make it so I update every Tuesday and Thursday; a week is just way too long for me. Anyway, enjoy the chapter.

Sage woke to an ache in her muscles and a dryness in her mouth. She sat up stiffly, trying to stretch and seeing that it was far more difficult than she'd realized. Manacles chafed her wrists and ankles as she moved.

Sage blinked, realizing that she was in a small prison cart with three others; two men and a woman. The two men were unconscious, or perhaps asleep, but the other woman was huddled in the corner, eyes low-lidded. She licked her lips and tried to catch a glance at her captor.

The mark of a slaver blazed across the back of his neck, making Sage swallow. The cart was too small to stand easily, not to mention the other people wouldn't help. So, she sat in awkward silence as the cart bumped over little divots and rises in the road.

Soon, they stopped. One of the other two men had awoken and quickly nudged the other man awake when the man came around to open the door. Swiftly, the man chained the other three together in a line by the chain between their ankles. Sage scowled at him as he snapped the chain on her to the other woman. No one spoke - Sage hardly dared to breathe.

He tugged the line into the woods and then into a dimly lit cave. Sage nearly tripped over the rocky ground with her bare feet, but managed to catch herself in time. They walked down a flight of stairs and into the cavern below.

That's when she saw it; a huge coliseum, lights flickering pleasantly in the dark, and a trickle of people entering. Sage blinked as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, looking around in curiosity. However, there was little time to stare, as they were soon moving again.

She and the other woman were put into cages with another woman that had black hair and brown eyes in the firelight. The woman was talking softly to a man in another cage, with light brown hair and blue eyes, though they may have been gray. Sage shivered in the chill and wondered what was going to happen next.

* * *

The first week consisted of auctioning off slaves. The woman she had traveled with was taken to a whorehouse in eastern Xaniel. The two men would become farm workers in Kripan. Two dozen other slaves were sold, leaving only a dozen in the arena.

No one desired Sage for some strange reason, getting odd looks from her fellow slaves and those who were trying to sell her. She was confused as well - she was fairly attractive and fit, and followed orders reasonably well.

Then everyone who wasn't sold was thrown into their own cells. From what Sage had heard by listening to the slavers, they would be trained as little as necessary and they'd all die off soon, to quote the man himself.

Her thick mane of hair was cut short to about an inch off her head. Everyone, even the men, was subject to this. Two women came in and worked down the line of cells to take measurements, marking them down on a clay tablet. Sage was tested with a variety of weapons; spears, swords, daggers, bows - the list went on.

"Welcome to the Twilight Arena!" snarked one of the guards as they herded the slaves into their respective cells. "Where people come to either die or watch some dumbass die instead!"

She slept in a bed for the first time since her arrival, wishing she still had her necklace - it was the last thing she had of her home and her family, except for perhaps her memories. Sage closed her eyes to hold back the tears.

* * *

A month later, they were all deemed fit to fight. Most of them fought animals, coming back barely alive, dead, or at least wounded in some way. Sage's first fight was with two wolves and her weapon had been a scythe - her worst weapon. She managed, however, to kill both of them.

She let out a heavy sigh as she pulled the buckle tight. Her friend from the first night in the cages, Aspen Palestream, helped tighten the straps under one arm. "You'll be fine," the older woman chirped. "Show those fuckers what you can do," However, Sage bit her lip anxiously.

"It's different," she said softly. "It's a _person_ and I might have to kill him," Aspen simply looked at Sage and sighed. She put her hand on the other woman's shoulder.

"Don't think too much about it," she told her kindly. "Just get out there and fight. Let your instincts control you," Aspen handed Sage her sword and shield, which she took gratefully.

This time, various weapons would be scattered throughout the arena. The porticulus began to rise and Sage hurried towards it, walking into the arena. She and her enemy crept towards each other at a snail's pace. The crowd cheered and shouted as she scored the first hit.

The man groaned and leaned forward,  sword poised for her throat. Sage sidestepped, spun on one foot, and lunged for his now unprotected back. He danced out of the way, aiming for her shoulder, which hit hard, but didn't cut through her armor.

This went on for nearly thirty minutes before Sage disarmed the man, cut his arm nearly off, and stood over him with a bloody blade. Her gaze turned to the leader, who sat in the king's stand. He rose slowly, his hand in the air. Then, he made a thumbs down. The crowd shouted, roaring in her ears, as she stabbed the man through the throat.

Blood splurted out, reddening her armor, the sandy ground, and the man's body. She pulled the blade out, grimacing. The young woman headed back to the entrance, where she was greeted by Storm Hillcrest, another friend of hers. He smiled at her sadly, prying the sword and shield from her fingers. Aspen came up next to her and lead her to the healer, who peeled her armor from her skin. Aspen helped her get her shirt off, wincing.

He wiped the blood from her, wrapping a gash on her shoulder with a bandage with a comfrey poultice. Sage was in a daze and she felt as if she was looking at her body from the outside. Aspen grasped her elbow, leading her back to her cell, where she laid down. Between one beat and the next, she was asleep.

* * *

Two days later, she was confronted by a man she distantly knew was Clay Deepwater. He had an angry expression on his face as he approached her. She frowned at him, slightly confused.

"You killed him," he growled in her face. "You killed Sand," _Ah,_  she thought, crossing her arms. _So_ that's _what this is about,_

"It's not like I had any choice," Sage told him calmly. "It was either him or me, and I'm not ready to die. Not yet, anyway," the dusky skinned man grimaced, letting his scowl fall. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Fine," he grumbled. "It's just that he... he was the only one that didn't give me odd looks or hated me," Sage lowered her head, letting her arms fall. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, too,"

She lifted her head, meeting his dark gaze with hers. "Friends, then?" The brunette offered her hand.  After a few moments, he grasped her arm, a wry smile on his face.

"Friends," he said.

* * *

Two months whirled by. Sage earned the name of Wildcat in the Arena. Storm became Whirlwind, Aspen was called Tempest, and Clay got Firebringer.

She, Storm, Aspen, and Clay began to meet regularly whenever they could, trying to appear as casual as possible. However, they were devising a plan to escape. Aspen, who was the social butterfly of the team, pulled a few strings and had many friends join them in secret.

"We're going to need a distraction," Storm murmured softly, rubbing his chin. Sage, Storm, and Aspen looked at Clay. He smiled mischievously.

"I've got an idea," he said. "We're going to need fire. Lots of fire," A grin curled at Sage's lip as his eyes met hers. A slight maniac glint began to glow in all of their eyes.

"Tonight," Sage decided. "We'll do it tonight," Aspen smirked lightly. "Let's get ready, then,"

Later, Aspen and Storm combed through the mixed crowd of guards and gladiators. Aspen had convinced the other gladiators, new or not, to riot. She and Storm took care of the rest, killing the guards. Sage stood in a corner of shadows, holding a bag of food and water. Several dozen weapons were slung across her body. She and Clay wore their armor - in fact, she could see him on the other end of the hall, casually setting fire to hay and pouring ale on the table before setting the torch on it.

Someone screamed an alert, and the crowd scattered. The banners caught fire as Clay whistled a tune and walked over to her. Aspen and Storm converged on him, as well as five other gladiators.

Sage distributed weapons and headed for the exit. She killed guards by herself. Most of the gladiators were wounded in some way, including Aspen. Storm carried her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she wept.

They limped up the stairs and pattered outside. Sage winced when she saw the light of the sun for the first time in three months. There was a trail of blood behind them, and she could see Aspen's ashy, blood-splattered face.

"You'll be okay," Storm whispered as he put her down. "You'll be fine, Aspen," he cradled her like a small child. The other gladiators stood respectfully to the side.

"It's alright," Aspen whispered, putting a blood-stained hand on his cheek. "It's okay, Storm," she coughed hard, red liquid dripping from the corner of her mouth. Then she whispered something Sage couldn't hear from where she was standing. Storm's face was filled with terror and shock.

"No," he murmured. "No, no, no, you can't go yet!" Storm keened as Aspen's eyes slid closed and her head lolled to the side. Sage felt tears rolling down her cheeks and she held herself. A large, warm arm draped itself over her shoulders. She looked up, seeing Clay's sorrowful face.

"She was a good woman," he whispered. "Always cheerful no matter what happened,"

"We all loved her," added another gladiator. "She was always kind to people," Sage felt a quivery smile on her face.

She quickly took the time to examine her teammates in true daylight. Storm had a score of ritualistic markings down the side of his neck, leading down his arm, marking him a Taezan from the Great Fertile Sea. Sage sideglanced up at Clay. His skin was a deep brown, with calculating gray eyes and deep black hair. A scar crossed diagonally over his right eye - she was impressed that he hadn't lost it. The other gladiators ranged from pale skinned to dark skinned, but it was rather difficult to tell hair and eye color with their helmets on.

Quickly, Sage shook herself from her reverie and turned back to the matter at hand.

They buried her body because there was no time to burn her, and then they fled north. Within the first week, three of the five other gladiators died; the rest of the group buried the bodies with their bare hands, resulting in cracked skin and aching fingers. The two other survivors bid them well before heading back to Kripan, their homeland.

Soon, the three others came to Farlander's Watch, an outpost on the Xaniel border. They were greeted with open arms, given food, water, a place to sleep, and coin to spend in the next town.

"I'm leaving," Storm told them calmly. Sage lifted her head, eyes wide with shock.

"What?" Clay blurted. "Why?" Storm shrugged.

"I have to let my family know I'm still alive," he replied. "I'm going to Taezar,"

"Ah," Sage finally said. "I wish you good luck, my friend," Storm smiled softly at her.

"Thank you, my friend," he replied, bowing slightly. "I think I'll need it," They all chuckled at that. Sage leaped up and moved over to hug him. He was startled but quickly returned the embrace.

"Don't die," she mumbled into his chest. He patted her hair, which was longer than it had been when she'd first come to the Twilight Arena.

"I'll try not to," Storm said softly before untangling himself and grabbing his bag. The other two followed after him and watched him walk down the road until they could no longer see him.

Sage wept the loss of her friends and family, missing her grandmother and the simple life in the valley. "I want to go home," she whispered.

Clay put a hand on her shoulder. "Then we'll get you home," he promised, smiling down at her gently. Her lips twitched as she lifted her head and looked at him.

"Thank you," she told him simply. _Maybe I'll be able to get home and stay there,_  she thought happily.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans


	3. Chapter 3

They stayed at Farlander's Watch for another day before heading out on the road. The duo aimed for the Coldwind Pass which led to the other side of the Sunrise Mountains. For nearly a week they clambered on game trails and walking through the woods.

They ran out of food within the first week, which led to hunting and scavenging for roots, berries, and anything else. This drew wolves to their fire when they cooked the meat. Sage shivered as she looked out into the shadows and saw the yellow eyes.

By morning, however, they were gone, along with the viscera of the two rabbits they'd caught. Sage glanced over at Clay as they packed up camp, wondering where he was born. He hadn't tried to go back to a homeland like Storm had, or like she was. _Maybe he's from beyond the Vast Ocean,_  she mused, checking her shortsword before sliding it back into its sheath. _Or perhaps from the Far South or the Far North?_

The two soon found a road leading up to the pass before Sage noticed something odd. "There are no animal sounds," she commented. "I don't think everyone takes a nap at this time of-" She was abruptly cut off by an arrow whizzing past her head. The brunette let out a startled shriek, dropping to the ground.

Clay pulled his bastard sword from its sheath, dropping his bag as two men ran out of the woods, wailing on him with clubs. Sage pulled out a handful of throwing daggers as two more, who had bows slung across their backs, followed after the ones attacking Clay.

She threw one that hit its mark in his collarbone. The next one missed by an inch, nicking his ear and landing in the ground behind him. His interest was directed to her as she threw another. It hit him straight in the face, sinking into his forehead. Shock played on his visage for several moments before the corpse crumpled to the ground.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sage spotted Clay run one of the men through. She fumbled for her sword and stood, sneaking around behind the lone bandit. Then, Sage rammed her blade through his back at the most opportune moment. She stood panting as the man's body stood, swayed for several heartbeats, then fell.

She and Clay simply stared at each other for a minute. Then, she burst out laughing. He snorted and eventually the two were giggling over everything and nothing. Once they had stopped, something would set one of them off again, and it would start all over.

"We should probably go, now," Clay managed to say, standing up and heading towards the mountain again. She rose as well, dusting herself off as she hurried to walk next to him. Sage wiped her blade clean of blood on a piece of ripped cloth, eyes ever watchful of their surroundings.

They camped next to a river when it became too dark to continue traveling. She was woken by rain, pouring down. Sage quickly scrambled to stand when she noticed the river licking at her skin, which was hard to do in mud. She nudged Clay awake, who jumped when he realized that the river was rising. She was fairly certain that he swore, but it was difficult to hear above the rain and thunder.

The brunette swallowed as they sat atop a hill, watching the river anxiously. It was rising more and more. She felt the hill move under her and cursed as the dirt slipped, dropping her halfway into the river. Clay managed to grab her in time, but that simply shifted the dirt and plunged it into the flood. Her hand slipped from his, and the last she saw of Clay was him going under.

The water washed her downriver. It was difficult to avoid the branches and other objects in the river, leaving her with bruises and several cuts before something finally knocked her out.

* * *

She woke on a pebbly riverbed, aching and confused. Then, the memories of the night before rushed back to her and Sage sighed, lifted her head briefly, before placing it back down. The brunette simply laid there for several minutes before managing the strength to crawl forward.

Amazingly, nothing was broken, though there were twinges of pain in her right shoulder any time she moved it in a certain way. Sage stood on shaky legs, wincing as she limped forward. A cave was situated above her, no more than two large slabs of rock leaning against each other and its back pressed against a cliff face. She crawled inside it, wiping mud from her cuts and trying to clean them out with water, placing mashed chamomile on them.

She soon found she had lost most of her blades in the river and the only weapon she had on her person was a small skinning knife. _Oh well,_ she thought. _I can always make a spear,_

On the second day, she was stronger and began to venture out, finding berries and roots safe to eat. Sage gathered rainwater from leaves and made twine from fiber. From that, she made a few snare traps on what she believed to be a well-trod rabbit trail and a handful of smaller snares on a branch, to catch birds.

That night, she built a fire and cooked two small songbirds on a stick over it, enjoying the smoky flavor. The next day, Sage tried to find her lost shortsword and other weapons to no avail. Instead, she simply found a long, thick stick and made a sharp rock to be a spear.

Sage lived in the woods for over a week, hunting and trapping and living. She slowly but surely healed; a few scars here and there, one that curled on her right temple. Her bruises changed colors before fading entirely.

It was two days into the second week when Sage came back to her little home and stopped short. A stranger stood at the entrance with his back turned to her. He was covered head to toe in mud and dirt. She narrowed her eyes - there was something familiar about his bulky frame.

"Who are you?" she barked, planting the blunt end of her spear into the ground. The man stilled, shifted, and turned around. At first, the brunette didn't recognize him. Recognition flared to life in his eyes and Sage inhaled sharply.

"I didn't expect to find you here," Clay Deepwater told her, grinning widely. A short chuckle escaped Sage while he approached her.

"I thought you were dead, Firebringer," she said teasingly, a smile flitting across her face. "I expected you to show up earlier, to be honest," He snorted and shook his head before embracing her.

"I thought you were dead too, Wildcat," Clay murmured into her hair. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulder and sighed. They stood like that for several moments before untangling themselves. Sage smiled up at him before grabbing the rabbit carcass she had dropped.

She deftly cut out the organs of the rabbit, skinning it and eventually placing it in the hot coals. Clay settled in the corner and began to regale her with his tale.

"...so I had to catch the fish with my bare hands. Of course, a brown bear was interested in it, and tried to grab it from my hands," he said, waving his hands around exaggeratedly.

"I hope you didn't fight it," Sage muttered under her breath, handing him some of the rabbit.

"No, I was faster than it," he replied, smirking. "I'm not an idiot, Sage," She shrugged.

"It's hard to tell sometimes,"

"How terribly rude,"

She beamed at him, while he jokingly shook his head. She told him of what she had done, from washing up on the river to just now. "It's boring compared to what you had to deal with," Sage said, pouting slightly. Clay reached over and ruffled her hair, smiling gently.

Later, they curled up next to each other by the fire, dozing. Clay had laid a protective arm over her and Sage had her hand on his, just to make sure he was still there. He mumbled something she couldn't hear, making her smile softly.

She closed her eyes and before long, she was asleep.

* * *

They spent another week in the area. Sage taught him how to make a bow and a spear, how to hunt and make snares. He taught her how to fight hand-to-hand.

It was nearing the end of the second week when they were sitting in the cave again. They didn't know much about each other, but Sage felt as close to him as they could be.

"I'm sorry if this seems rude, but why were you at the Twilight Arena?" She asked him curiously. "I'll tell you how I got there in return,"

Clay stiffened, before letting out a sigh. "Well," he began awkwardly. "I was born into slavery. I was separated from my family when I was young, so I don't know who they are. I was in Xaniel, working on a farm when bandits raided the warehouse," he said, shifting nervously and picking at the ground.

"The bandits freed me, but pressed me into their service," Sage winced; that wouldn't have been good, considering it would probably just be another form of servitude for Clay. "I ran with them for three years or so. Last winter, they sold me back into slavery because there weren't enough travelers on the road to steal from," he continued. "I ended up at the Twilight Arena, and the rest is history. What's your story?"

Sage cleared her throat. "It was just after the Festival of Light," she told him. Then, she began to weave her tail, leaving out no detail, not even the assassin that had been sent after her. "...and the rest is history, I guess," she echoed him, which made him shake his head in amusement.

There were a few moments of comfortable silence. "I, uh, I found this," Clay said, pulling out a small, ugly stone. Then, he turned it over, showing a center full of clear crystals that sparkled pleasantly in the firelight. A little gasp of awe slipped from her mouth as her eyes widened. She'd never heard nor seen a stone like it. "I'd like for you to have it,"

His ears reddened slightly as she took it gingerly, rolling it around in her hands. "It's, er, custom in Xaniel, to find a token to give to someone you want to... uh... court," Clay said haltingly, voice heightening at the end in embarrassment. Sage blinked, shocked.

"Thank you," she said calmly, letting the stone drop into her lap. "I'm not looking for a relationship at the moment," He seemed to wilt and Sage frowned, feeling bad. "...But when I do, you'll be the first to know," Clay lifted to look at her and she quickly erased her frown, slipping into a kind smile.

He gave a hesitant smile back. Sage quietly tried to remember how Thidians courted and was quickly dissolved into her thoughts. An idea quickly formed in her mind and as she settled down to sleep, a smile curled on her lips. _I've got just the thing to give him,_  she thought. _Or at least, the idea of what to give him,_

With that, she closed her eyes and let the crackling flames lull her to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: non-explicit attempted rape/non-con later in the chapter.

Sage and Clay walked steadily southwest, planning to pass through the border legally. If things got out of hand, however, they'd simply cross illegally. Sage personally knew how difficult the border guard could be.

As they traveled, Sage noticed that sometimes there were odd noises. There were loud crunching of branches or twigs, unusually so, as animals were often rather quiet in their snapping, unless they were being chased or some such. At times, she swore she could hear heavy footfalls.

Three days passed before something rather eventful occurred. She had laid down, gazing into the flames, almost asleep, when something had struck her over the head. There was a low thump before everything went dark.

* * *

She woke on the back of a horse, swaying slightly. The young woman wiggled slightly, making her captor chuff her over the head. She went still, looking at an odd symbol. It was upside down, but she recognized the symbol of Vagon; a setting sun behind three trees. Her captor hit her over the head again, throwing her into the darkness of unconsciousness.

Sage faded in and out of consciousness during the trip before she was thrown onto a cold, stone floor. Her cheek scraped against the stone as a leak dripped onto her head. She barely had two seconds to move before Clay was tossed in after her.

"Welcome to Castle Dusk," one jailor sneered. "Enjoy our... warm welcome," The other laughed and walked away.

The door slammed shut ominously and she swallowed, lifting her head. Her hands were unbound now, as was Clay's. She knew that this was going to be bad. Very bad.

The days whirled by - one meal shared between them twice a day, little more than gruel, water, and crusty bread - and then it was a week. Two weeks, then three. The two hardly talked, but it was too cold to sleep alone, so they curled up next to each other to stay warm.

One day, the slit in the door opened, dispensing their usual food. "You're both gon' get hanged within the month," chortled their sadistic jailor. "Have some fun before ya die," Clay flinched at the implication and Sage cringed.

Another week passed, nearing the time of their execution. It was when she heard some rather odd noises outside. She quickly kicked Clay awake, which he grumbled about. "Shh," she muttered. "Listen,"

There was the sound of someone talking, then a noise like someone being punched in the face. Footsteps overlaid with the rustle of metal over metal. Then, the door unlocked and swung open. It revealed a tall young man, a grim expression on his face and dressed in a guard uniform.

"I'm going to get you two out of here," he told the duo calmly. "It'd be best if you follow me," Clay and Sage shared a look, wondering who this was and what his intentions were.

They quickly followed after him. Sage saw the jailor at the end of the hall, who guarded what she thought was the solitary cells. He pivoted, turning down to what was unmistakably the sewers. She could smell it even from where she was, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"You must go down here. There's only one way to go, and I've put supplies down there for both of you," the man spoke as he removed the manhole covering the sewer. Clay grabbed the man once he'd put the metal disk aside.

"Why are you helping us?" The dark-skinned man growled. "What purpose would this serve?" The other man swallowed and looked up at him in fear. Sage grimaced and looked down at the sewers.

"All I know is that the boss wants you free. Nothin' else!" In his panic, his Western Xaniel accent came through. "Never seen 'is face, dunno if it's a man or woman, I dunno," Clay gave him a scathing glare and dropped him. She simply shook her head and dropped into the sewer. Clay followed after her, after grabbing a torch from the wall.

The man pulled the disk back over the manhole, and they walked on. Sludging through nasty, smelly, dirty water wasn't very fun; hopefully, the man had included a change of clothes. Then, when she saw the sunlight at the end of the tunnel did she find the bags. They were rather large; they were called duffel bags in Thidia and Vagon, and they were each loaded with essentials; food, water, weapons, clothes - you name it.

Sage picked up one and Clay took the other - they'd figure out which was whose after they'd gotten a safe distance away. "We should find Storm," she suggested as they jumped from the sewer into the slightly murky water. "So, I say we should head east,"

"That's actually a fairly good idea," muttered Clay as they waded through said water to the fast-running river. They pulled themselves onto the shore just nearby. Sage swallowed a giggle, trying to dust herself off to no avail.

"C'mon," she whispered. "There's a bridge, right there," Sage gestured to just in front of them. The river was moving far too quickly to try and ford it, so they'd have to cross it. Clay nodded and they took to the bushes, keeping their eyes open for any human movement. Luckily, there was none, so they crossed the bridge undisturbed.

They traveled on and off for two days, carefully hiding their tracks and from patrols. They also changed from their prison rags to something more comfortable. Sage wore a blouse and knee-length skirt, with leggings underneath and soft leather boots; she also wore a knife strapped to each of her thighs. Clay wore a simple shirt and trousers, with plain boots and a sword at his side. The duo went from Castle Dusk to a tiny village on the border of Taezar.

It took nearly a week to get there, and by the time they arrived, it was Redfall. The trees and grass had changed colors from green to yellow, red, purple, and orange, making the landscape a kaleidoscope of color. The two had decided to stay in the inn for a short time before continuing on again.

Sage watched the small caravan walk into the town with interest. They had various goods - including meats, pottery, and tools. Clay moved to her side, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We should go with them," he muttered in her ear. "They're obviously going the same way,"

Sage nodded and then, they approached the leader of the caravan; a tall, dark-haired man named Avalanche. "Hello," she greeted calmly. "We noticed you are traveling east, and we were wondering if you could take us with you,"

His amber eyes narrowed slightly. "If I may ask, where are you going?" Clay opened his mouth, then closed it as Sage continued.

"We're going to our honeymoon spot in East Xaniel," she quickly lied. "I'm Lily and this is Oak," The young woman felt Clay's incredulous gaze on her, but she ignored it. After a moment of tense silence, Avalanche nodded.

The group traveled east, and before long, they were amidst the grasslands of Taezar. They loitered in one village to the next, selling and buying wares of all kinds. Sage talked to various men and women in the caravan. Petal was the group's healer, her toddling daughter Moon following her wherever she went. Ivory was one of the group's hunters that caught fresh game.

Mountain was an odd man, seeming to be one man one moment and a different man the next. Sometimes, he muttered in his sleep about his brother, who was nowhere to be found. Crystal was a dark-skinned teenager, a hunter alongside Ivory. Possum was another dark-skinned young woman, older than Crystal, and was a traveling poet and minstrel, though Sage believed there was a lot more to her than it seemed.

Owl and River were twins; Owl a girl, River a boy, with light tan skin and dark hair, with River's eyes being a paler green than his sister's. Owl was only slightly louder and more boisterous than River. Avalanche himself had a large, black wolf-dog that made Sage inherently nervous. It was a cute dog, though.

So, on they went, traveling north and circuiting around the country. Clay and Sage had seen neither hide nor hair of Storm and wondered where he could possibly be. They had decided he'd be somewhere in the tribal Heartland, where they had not yet been.

Clay had become the camp guard, teaching Owl and River how to defend themselves with just their fists. Sage minded Moon when Petal could not, usually when she was tending the ill of one village or another. She also taught Owl how to wield a sword and River how to shoot a bow.

The weeks turned to a month, and soon the caravan was heading to the rather perilous Heartland. The 'newlyweds' told the caravan that they were hoping to find a childhood friend there. They sat around the campfire one evening when Possum casually asked, "Why aren't you two doing things a usual couple do?"

Sage reddened briefly, before stammering, "Whatever do you mean, Possum?" The woman rolled her eyes, swiping a hand through short, black hair.

"Why aren't you fucking like bunnies?" She asked plainly, but quietly so the children wouldn't hear, looking at her fingernails. Sage felt Clay stiffen at her side and coughed awkwardly.

"We were waiting to get to our honeymoon house," he said awkwardly. The others had turned to their own conversations after they'd eaten. "To, um, do that," Possum merely smiled lazily.

"As you say," she murmured, leaning back. Sage hunched over and gazed into the fire, trying to shove the thoughts of she and Clay ever doing something like that down and away into the dark depths of her mind.

* * *

They came to a larger town called Whitescape, setting up camp in the ruins near the village. The ill were brought to Petal and children played with Moon, Owl, and River. Others came to learn to defend themselves from bandits and animals and the like. A handful came to learn how to pickpocket and steal. Though most were turned away, Possum took one or two younger kids and taught them how to steal /properly/ and how to give back to the victim once they had enough money or something equivalent to what they stole. Unless they had deserved it, of course.

Sage watched the kids with a passion, making sure none strayed too far from her sight, and that they didn't injure themselves in the ruins. There were perhaps thirteen children out of the eighty people living in the town. Luckily, only six had come to the caravan's camp while they rested in the ruins. River and Owl were like tiny adults, so Sage hardly had to worry about them.

Sage also didn't simply just watch the children. She taught them what they could eat if they were lost in the woods and what was poisonous. She taught the older kids what kind of plants would help fevers, headaches, and infections; even Owl and River. They all sucked up the knowledge like sponges, which she was glad for.

Before long, it was time for them to leave again, to head to Sunstone, the capital city of Taezar. The children and some of the older people begged them not to leave, but to stay and help them through the winter. Avalanche gently told them that they could not stay, but they might come back for the winter if they did not stay in Sunstone.

So, they kept moving. It was not long before they had a ...hiccup. Or rather, various hiccups. First, the camp was besieged by bandits; they set the camp on fire, stole food and weapons, and knocked Clay over the head so hard he had a head wound. Sage saw Crystal grab Owl and River, her tan face pale as she ran away, the two clutching at her hands. Possum snatched up Moon and took off after Petal, who had escaped with Mountain and Avalanche in the opposite direction.

Then, while Sage was trying to drag Clay away, they captured her and took her away from the burning camp several feet. There, she realized that these were no ordinary bandits; these were the fabled Taezar Killers, a group of banished and exiled men who had not been put to the sword. As a result, they pillaged the land.

Last, one of the men touched her. He ripped at her leggings and fumbled for his drawstring. Tears rolled down Sage's swollen cheeks as she tried to push him away with her feet. That merely made him angrier as he forced her legs open hard enough to bruise and made to enter her.

However, he was stopped when an arrow sprouted through his face. His fellows let out a cry, then they went down as well. She managed to shove the body off of her, curling up in a ball and sobbing hysterically. _I_ _wanna go home,_  she wept. _I want to see Aspen and Granmama and everyone else,_

She didn't hear the horses arriving, nor the men dismounting. All she felt was an ache in her chest, because everyone she knew might as well be dead and she was stuck in some kind of hell. One hand fell on her shoulder and another lifted her chin, gentle and caring.

She let out another choked sob and leaned into Storm's chest while he rubbed her back, murmuring softly. Sage felt him pick her up and untie her, wrapping a blanket over her lower body. She saw two other men pick up Clay, putting him on a horse with another man.

She didn't know when she fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm posting this at like 12 am. Don't ask why I'm not sleeping; I'm a total and utter fool.

Sage woke in a tent with incense burning impenetrable in the air. She was redressed in a simple cotton dress and sandals, no embroidery on the dress either like she'd seen in paintings of Taezan women. She slackly sat up and then stood, noting bread and what she hoped was a jug of water on a small table nearby.

Stomach grumbling, she promptly moved over and scarfed it down, swallowing water straight from the jug. Gladly, it really was just water; leaped. She delicately set down the earthenware and looked around.

There were no decorations, except the candles and incense crowded on a table that seemed to be an altar to some Taezan deity. Sage licked her lips and looked to the tent flat, a look of consideration on her face. Then, she walked forward and moved out into the world.

Her legs were somewhat unsteady as she walked through the camp, looking around. Some children stared at her with obvious curiosity in their eyes but were quickly pulled away by their parents or older siblings. Sage swallowed and rubbed her arm. She kept walking forward, then abruptly turned around and backtracked.

She eventually returned to the tent she had woken in, struck by nerves. Sage hid in a corner, blending into the shadows of the tent. Before long, an herbman arrived, Storm trailing behind him. She eyed the two nervously before stepping closer.

"Hello," Storm said to her gently. "This is Wind. He's here to make sure you're in good health, alright?" Sage felt her lips press into a thin line as she looked at the herbman.

He was gangly and older than her grandmother had been before her death. Gradually, she moved closer to the man. He gave her a small smile and told her in heavily accented, broken Xaniel Common "Will not hurt," Sage managed to grin weakly at him.

The man was gentle and was true to his word, not hurting her in any way. Storm hovered over her like an overprotective older brother, making her smile when she thought no one was looking. The check-up passed by quickly and the elderly man quickly hurried out, leaving Storm and Sage alone.

"Where's Clay?" she finally erupted once they were alone. "Where'd he go? Can I see him?" Sage rambled off into a few more questions she hardly remembered while Storm waited patiently for her to finish.

"He's..." Storm paused, lips pursing. "He's alright so far. He's in a coma, but I believe you're able to see him," Sage's eyes widened, swallowed, then turned to look him in the eye.

"Take me to him,"

* * *

They dawdled outside of the healer's tent for a while. Then, Storm sighed and opened the tent flap, allowing Sage to enter.

She hurried in, hearing Storm follow after her. The young woman quickly spotted Clay laying on a bed, bandages thick around his bare chest and around his forehead. His right forearm was also bandaged, as well as almost the entirety of his left calf. His dark skin was ashy and his face looked almost gaunt in the candlelight. The incense's smoke was thick in the air, almost choking her.

Hesitantly, Sage sat down in the chair at his side and grabbed his hand. She felt her cheeks become cold as she felt the chill in his body. However, she could still see his breathing and felt his pulse on his wrist - so he was still alive. But not for long, at least. It was common knowledge that a Taezan could not be carried, walk, or were in a deep sleep were killed if they did not show signs of recovering within the month.

Silently, Sage prayed to whichever god or goddess that would listen. _Save my friend,_ she pleaded. _Please,_  she swallowed back her tears, lifting up to see Storm hovering over Clay. A sorrowful expression crossed his face as his hand rested on the younger man's unbandaged arm. She wiped tears away from her face and set her jaw, trying to appear stronger than she felt.

"He'll get better," she said, forcing a thread of calm into her voice. Storm looked up at her, frown slight on his face.

"If you say so," he said doubtfully, pulling his hand away. He seemed to retreat into himself. Storm crossed his arms as Sage began to speak.

"No," she told him strongly. "I don't say so. I know so," There was a tiny flicker of emotion in Storm's eyes - shock? determination? or something else? - before it faded. She could almost pass it off as a trick of the light if he hadn't given her the slightest of nods. Sage managed to smile at him.

She stayed with Clay for several hours. Storm had left swiftly, making some sort of excuse about needing to light a fire or some such. Sage had simply let her head down and closed her eyes to rest.

Sage felt someone nudge her awake gently. She lifted her head to look into the face of an herbwoman. The older woman said something in Taezan, leading Sage out of the tent by the crook of her elbow. Storm was waiting outside, face drawn as he offered his arm. Gently, she took it and let him lead her back to her tent.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. "You look..." Sage struggled with the words. "Like your dog died, or something," Storm shook his head, amusement lighting up his expression.

"It's... it's alright," he replied. "Something's come up. That's all," he paused, letting her enter the tent. "I suggest you get some sleep," Sage looked around the tent as he left.

The incense had been blown out hours ago and only the scent hung heavy in the air now. Sage took a deep breath, letting the smell of mint, thyme, and various other odors to calm her nerves. Then, she curled up on the bed and allowed herself to sleep.

* * *

 

The next week was spent in the camp. She alternated between sitting at Clay's bedside and helping the other women in the camp. Mostly it was gutting and skinning the animals and fetching water to boil. Other times she helped cook and was slowly taught bits of the language the Taezans spoke; Taezi.

She often asked if they had seen anyone from the caravan she and Clay had traveled with before. There was word of three teenagers traveling north, matching the descriptions of Crystal, Owl, and River. Sage had learned that Avalanche and Mountain had been traveling east, toward Kripan. Moon, Possum, and Petal were south-bound to Evadel, or so she was told.

She was washing a dress in the middle of a washing circle when a young boy, unblooded by Taezan standards, ran up to her. There were only a handful of words that he said in halting, accented Common, and yet she understood. "He's awake and asking for you,"

Sage's heart leaped into her throat as she stifled a cry. She stood and quickly hurried after the boy as he ran off. The other women in the washing circle exchanged looks behind her back, then shrugged and went back to work.

She all but flung herself into the tent. It had been vacated except for Clay himself. Hooded dark eyes turned to her as she burst in. Sage managed to grin at him, moving over to him and sitting down in the chair at his side.

"I told you I'm too stubborn to die," he murmured, smirking teasingly at her. She grasped his hand and he squeezed it gently. An herbwoman entered, silently checking over Clay and gave him something to chew on before leaving. Sage recognized it as ginger and closed her eyes, swallowing. "How has it been going?" he whispered through the herb.

"It's alright," she said hoarsely. "It's been a long week without you, Clay," Clay sighed and seemed to relax into the bed as she opened her eyes. "Storm and a few others took us to this camp," Sage told him. "I'm told we're going to move to Sunstone in the next few days," she paused. "I'm glad you woke up, Firebringer,"

A smile played on his lips and even though he said nothing, she knew what he said. Tears brimmed in Sage's eyes as she choked down a sob and smiled weakly at him.

* * *

Three more days passed; the camp was quickly packed up and loaded onto packhorses. Almost everyone rode on horseback; even Clay, who was stubborn. Eventually, Sage and Storm had relented, allowing him a horse. They were side-by-side with Storm and two of his men.

Sage had noticed that Storm became slowly more uncomfortable as they rode closer to Sunstone. "What's wrong?" she hissed at him, leaning over. "You've been like this for nearly two weeks now. Why?" She saw him shift and look away.

Then he answered, sigh in his voice. "It's my father," he said unhappily. "He's Hunter Tallgrass," Her head snapped up, eyes huge. "I'm his bastard, and," Storm mumbled. "He's more likely to kill me than welcome me into his home,"

Sage winced. It was well-known, even in a far-flung isolated mountain village like hers, that the dictator of the Taezans was eccentric at best and psychotic at worst. Her grandfather had told her that if she didn't eat her vegetables or something as trivial as that, Hunter Tallgrass would come out of the woods and drag her away.

"Why don't you just camp outside Sunstone with us?" Clay suggested, listening into their conversation. It was custom not to enter Sunstone unless you were either invited or Taezan, and Clay nor Sage were neither. Storm scrunched up his face, then sighed again.

"I wish I could," he told them. "But I have an obligation, even if I'm a bastard," A few beats of silence passed as Sunstone came into view. "If I die, though, please give me a proper burial," Sage heard Clay reply only half-jokingly as she stared at the large city in awe, mouth gaping.

The center consisted of a handful of tall, decrepit buildings that must have been from before the War. Many were half-repaired, and there were tall, shiny stone buildings that seemed to glitter in the dim light of sunset. A large wall, made of the same glittering stone surrounded the center. Stone, wood, and sod houses were outside and even from where she was, Sage could hear people working and children's laughter. A wooden wall surrounded that, and the outlying fields were crops, dotted with barns and farmers' houses. A river winded lazily to the far south of the city, and what she could see, a few mills churned against the current.

Sage swallowed, took a deep breath, and pushed onward. She hurried to catch up with Storm and Clay, dismounting at the city gates with only a pack to her name. Clay stood beside her, carrying what would become their tent. A handful of others had camped nearby, working quietly.

She and Clay exchanged a look. Then, she sighed. "Well," she said. "Let's get to work, then,"

 

* * *

Sage stared up at the canvas ceiling, trying to ignore the foreboding sensation in her gut. She closed her eyes and sighed softly, shoving the feeling away. The brunette listened to Clay's steady breathing and soon fell asleep.

She woke to the scent of smoke no more than three hours later. Haphazardly, she threw her blanket off of her, eyes wide with terror. Clay sat up, a baffled look on his face. Then, he realized what was happening. "Fire," he whispered, voice panicked.

Sage scrambled up and looked around wildly, throwing the tent open in her haste. Smoke climbed up one of the tents in the slummish camp, greedily spreading its hot fingers. It quickly leaped from a small oil lantern, which had been unlit, to snap up their tent. She let out a small shout as Clay tackled her out of the way. A handful of others ran around the camp in a frenzy.

She swallowed and squinted as her eyes began to water and pushed the memories down. Clay helped her stand and hobbled over to the road. "Stay here," he told her, looking her in the eye. "I'll get some water," He turned away, grim determination on his face.

Sage shuddered and held herself, watching the flames. Then, someone hit her over the head which sent her sprawling. A sense of deja vu washed over her just before the darkness did.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild to severe descriptions of torture later on. idk if it's severe though.

Sage woke slung over a horse like a sack of potatoes. Her blurry vision allowed her to see the rocky ground and her hands swaying below her. She blinked, allowing her eyesight to clear as she tilted her head to her right to look up at her captor.

He was a handsome man, rugged in his appearance and in his thirties. Ahead of him was another man that she couldn't see - he was blond, though, and pale-skinned. Sage twisted her head to the left, seeing a woman that seemed to be asleep in the saddle. Or close to it, at least.

Sage struggled to lift her head, shifting uncomfortably and quietly as she could manage. Luckily, the scraping of horse hooves blocked out most of the noise, which she was glad for.

Failing to lift her head, she went slack and sighed softly. There was no way she was going to be able to escape like this. The blood rushed around in her ears, warming her face and making her feel lightheaded. Sage took meditative breaths, half-closing her eyes and letting the repetitive clip-clopping of the hooves to calm her.

It became nightfall within an hour by Sage's count. She heard a gate open as the trio of horses stopped, then they got moving again. The middle-aged man dismounted, grabbed her and flung her over his shoulder, then hurried after his two younger companions. Sage grunted as her head bounced when he ran, forehead thumping off his back.

The blond told the woman something in Vagon, who turned to the man and said something in Kripani. The man nodded, saying something back and then headed down to the dungeons. Sage forced herself to relax, letting him lay her down on the ground and untie her feet and wrists before she struck.

Her fist slammed into his chest and the next hit landed in his throat. She felt and heard something crunch quietly. The man groaned in pain before he punched her in the face. Her nose snapped, blood dripping down her face.

He grunted, rubbing his throat, glaring at her in the dark. He spat something in Kripani at her before lumbering out of the room, slamming the door shut. There was the telltale clicking of the door being locked. Sage quickly went to set her nose, hissing in pain as she manipulated the flesh. Once it was more or less in the correct position, she held it, biting her lip as pain flared into her face.

She held it for a solid five minutes before letting go, wiping the blood away on the hem of her skirt. Sage glanced up around the room, sighing as she was met with nothing more than blank brick walls, a bench to sleep on, a tiny barred window, and a little bucket that she was glad she couldn't smell.

She alternated between resting, listening at the door, and trying to find a way to open the window. It was harder than it looked, however. All she could tell was that her jailer was dead asleep, snoring loudly, the window opened from the outside, and that the bucket hadn't been emptied in several days.

Sage shivered and held herself as she pressed her back against the wall. Dark eyes flicked from the window to the door and she exhaled loudly, running a hand through her matted hair. Spots of dried blood stuck to her face, clinging stubbornly to her skin despite her best efforts to wipe it off.

She felt her head loll to one side and she closed her eyes, feeling rather tired. She yawned, curling up on the ground. With that, Sage fell into sleep.

* * *

She woke several hours later to the door clanging open. The jailer handed her food, water, and clothing. Sage felt her face redden once her stomach grumbled and greedily snatched the bread from the man's hand, quickly eating.

"Dress," the man said gruffly in Common with a Vagon accent. "Drink," his face twisted into a frown as she took the glass and drank the fruit juice, handing the cup back. "You will see King Cedar,"

Sage swallowed and bobbed her head, eyeing the knife at the man's belt. He handed her the bundle of clothing and left, closing the door.

She slipped into the breeches and tunic easily before the man came in, squeezing her feet into the shoes.

"We go," he told her simply, grabbing her arm rather gently, and leading her through the prison's winding tunnels. Then, they clambered up the stairs and made way for the castle proper.

The man led her to what was obviously a private chamber. He jerked his head to the door and she grimaced, opening the door hurriedly. The jailer took up the post as the guard just outside, stench wafting the golden halls.

She was greeted with four different people. The left-most man was the blond from the group she'd been kidnapped by. Then a woman, a man, and another man. The women and two other men looked similar, with black hair and tan skin.

"Leave us," the third man said crisply. The woman and other men quickly left. The woman gathered up her crimson skirts, tiptoeing around Sage out of the door. The black-haired man glared at her as he left. Meanwhile, the brunette shifted uncomfortably.

She stood still while the last man approached. "I'm sure you are wondering why you are here, exactly," he said demurely, smiling rather innocently. "You are a bastard, are you not?"

Sage eyed him warily, glancing at a candelabra just out of reach. He followed her gaze and chuckled.

"Now, now," he said, false warmness in his voice. "No need for such... violence, is there?" She narrowed her eyes at him, mouth clamped tightly shut. He simply shrugged as he uncorked a wine and poured it into a cup. "I suppose that by your silence that it is true; you _are_  a bastard,"

Sage swallowed nervously, trying to not let her anxiety show and to stay silent. "I'm guessing you have no idea who sweet daddy dearest is?" He murmured. "Well, daddy dearest is dead. I'm the king now,"

Shock rushed through her, shattering her calm. She felt her face contort into an expression of confusion and horror. The man, Cedar Duskglade, smiled winningly at her and sipped his wine.

"What?" Sage croaked, stepping back as he came closer. Cedar's smile turned into a devilish smirk as he leered at her.

"Nice to meet you, sweet sister," he laughed. "Or rather, should I say half-sister?" She swallowed and tried to punch him, rather futilely. Cedar merely grabbed her arm, faster than she ever was. "Now, now," he tsked. "That's no way to treat your brother,"

"All of this," Sage wrenched her arm from his grip, making a wide gesture with the other. "This, this _mess_ , was _your_  fault?" Incredulity dipped into her voice, making her tone become a higher pitch than she intended. Her half-brother merely shrugged.

"I had hired the slavers in hopes you would simply die of exposure, die in the pits, or manage to ah... disappear," he smiled widely, leaning back and taking a drink of his wine. "You threw a wrench in the plan when you escaped and disappeared with your friends. Then I tracked you down for the second time, although it took me some time, and I was supposed to just have your head lopped off," Cedar sighed. "You escaped. Again. Now, I'll make sure you definitely don't escape." He tilted his head, a smirk growing across his face. "Thorn, take her away,"

Abruptly, her hands were gripped tight enough to bruise as someone wrapped ropes around her wrists. Sage grit her teeth and spat at Cedar's feet with a sneer on her face. "Trust me when I say I will fucking _end_ you," she snarled. The king's face turned impassive. "But first I will take away everything you have ever loved,"

With that, the blond man, Thorn, all but bodily dragged her out of the room. She slammed her head on the ground as she fell, and blissful darkness came over her.

* * *

 _Sage dreamed of her grandmother and grandfather. She dreamed of Maple and Badger and Sparrow and everyone else from Ashton. She dreamed of Clay and Storm, frantic and searching for someone or something. She dreamed of Possum and Crystal and Moon and Petal and Avalanche and Mountain and River and Owl all together in one mashed up pile, holding each other until they stopped crying. She dreamed of Cedar and what would happen if he got his way_  (fire and death and she could see the heads of everyone she knew on spikes and-). _Flashes of her parents tumbled through her brain; an older man with black hair and dark brown eyes, a woman with dark brown hair and gray eyes embracing each other._  (the woman is crying "Mama I cannot do this anymore," and then there is blood and a baby's wailing)

She tossed and turned and woke up, ice water splashing over her flesh. Sage jerked, wide eyes turning to Thorn as he dropped the pail. He picked up a knife from a tray, smiling as he wielded it towards her flesh. He gently rested it on her cheek, not making a cut for several beats. "I think I'm going to have fun," he whispered, his breath hot on her neck.

Then there was pain in her hand as he rammed the blade into it. She heard someone scream and realized that it was her. Sage closed her eyes and whispered a prayer in Thidian to Farrah, the goddess of death and murder to take her away. Or to take Thorn away, at least.

Sage faded in and out of consciousness for a long time. She counted the days by the light and dark from the window from whenever she was awake. She was given only the minimal amount of food and water and was tortured on every other day. She tried to stay strong but found herself only hunching over as Thorn came into the room and began his administrations.

Sage closed her eyes again, whispering her litany of names in her mind as the blond ripped off another fingernail. _WolfLilyWrenMapleSparrowBadgerClayStormPossumPetalAvalancheMoonRiverOwlMountainAspen,_  She choked down a sob as the man began to burn her flesh with a candle. Sage just wanted to _s_ _leep_  for gods' sakes.

The torture seemed to stretch for days. She alternated between cursing out Thorn, whispering her litany, or murmuring the names of the people she wanted to kill. Sage, at times, forced herself to remember hunts in the wild, ignoring the pinpricks of pain on her senses.

Then, Thorn broke her right ankle. Her eyes snapped open as she gasped, pain ripping up her leg. His grin glinted white in the dark room and he then unchained her, letting her drop to the ground on her broken ankle. Sage groaned in pain, hunched over as she listened to him walk away. She crawled over to the mat she slept on.

The door slammed open, making her flinch. A different man, the Kripani man she had been carried by on her first day quickly entered. Tears pricked her eyes as she huddled into a ball, turning terrified eyes up to him. His expression turned abruptly angry and then a sort of sad frustration.

He bound her leg with a stiff stick and gently laid a blanket over her. He murmured something in Kripani, swore, then rushed from the room. Sage silently tugged the blanket around herself, ignoring the chill that swept through the room. She shuddered despite herself, wiping away tears that threatened to escape her eyelids.

She curled up and quietly fell asleep, trying to force out the memories of what had happened to her.

* * *

It had been two months since her torture had begun, Sage quickly learned. Now, she was going to hang. Two guards stood on either side of her as she walked through the crowd, chin held high. Anger and frustration flowed through her veins like molten metal when she saw Thorn and Cedar side by side on the gallows. On Cedar's arm was an unfamiliar woman, obviously his fiancee.

She nearly tripped when she saw the guards on the roofs die silently from throwing knives. Several masculine figures moved through the crowd, eyes on her. A woman snuck close to Sage as the brunette twisted her broken ankle and fell to the ground, gritting her teeth.

"We will come," the woman whispered in falsely broken Common with a not-so-fake Kripani accent, honest russet eyes on her. Sage jolted, eyes wide as she recognized Possum in a very elaborate disguise. She nearly choked on her

Cedar began a short speech, most of which she ignored as Thorn slid a bag over her head and then the noose. The noose tightened and quickly, she could hear her own breathing. Then, she saw Cedar make a dramatic gesture through the hood and Thorn pulled the lever.

The ground dropped out from under her feet and Sage began to strangle to death. Dark spots filled her vision as she choked, struggling to breathe. Fire lit up in her chest like a match, heat spreading in her torso.

Then, something snapped.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm posting the last three chapters today.

Sage slammed hard into the ground below the gallows with a groan. Someone yanked off the hood and broken noose, making her nearly choke on her own saliva. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light under the stage, then looked between Storm and Clay.

"What are you doing here?" She croaked as Storm did away with her bonds, throwing the rope over his shoulder.

"Saving you," Clay grunted as he picked her up. "What else?" Sage gave him a small, breathless smile as they quickly moved out.

She spotted the woman on Cedar's arm slam a dagger through his back, sprouting through his stomach. The king let out a gasping noise and collapsed. Then, the woman began to speak.

"My name is Willow Blazeheart. You most likely know me as your future queen," she announced loudly, tossing incredibly fair hair over her shoulder. "I am here to tell you that this man is worse than a dog," Here, she gestured to Cedar. "He tortured his half-sister, an innocent who was nearly hung today..." The words faded as Clay sprinted down an empty road, Storm hot on his heels.

Sage swallowed as she bounced in her friend's arms, trying not to throw up. She heard someone from the crowd scream and then there was a rush of noise that Sage guessed what a majority of the group running like hell.

She felt her eyes flutter closed as Clay nearly tripped down some stone stairs, jouncing her ankle as he did so. A small groan escaped her lips and she could feel Clay's wince under his clothing. Then, as they headed for what she thought was a tunnel, she smacked her head on the wall hard enough to fall unconscious.

Thankfully, Clay was holding her.

* * *

Sage woke in a covered wagon, confusion shooting through her. Then, the memories came rushing back and she lifted her head, spotting Petal tending to her ankle. She let her head drop in relief, almost slamming it into the wood.

Petal glanced up at her and raised a brow. "I see you're awake," she said half-teasingly, a little smile on her face. "Sweet dreams?"

"Far from it," she groaned. Several moments of silence passed before she asked, "Where are we going?" Petal's cool, gentle, searching hands paused, fluttered over her legs, then resumed.

"The western-most coast in Xaniel," the older woman told her simply. "Not sure of the exact location, but Avalanche said there was a fort there," A grimace was in her voice as she said it. "Hopefully it's not /too/ run-down," The last sentence was a mumble, likely meant for Petal herself.

Sage frowned at the cloth ceiling, sighed, and settled in for a long trip.

Days faded in and out like the tide. Sage slept large sections of the time, waking up for only brief moments at a time to eat, sleep, walk around, and relieve herself. She flinched every time she saw Mountain; it wasn't his fault he looked like her torturer, though. He even sent her a note, apologizing and telling her that he would avoid her to give her the most minimum amount of discomfort.

Clay sat with her and told her of the two months that they had searched for her. At first, they (Storm and Clay) thought she had simply wandered off, but then Storm had noticed the slightly-bloody rock and scuff marks on the ground. Then, they had set out on their journey.

Storm had tracked them to Vagon, but no farther than that. That had been where they met up with Avalanche's caravan, who had found each other once again. Possum had gotten them disguises to hide themselves wherever they would need to go, while Crystal helped track Sage down.

Then, after a month, they had found her. River and Owl discovered her execution while masquerading as couriers in the castle. Avalanche, Petal, Possum, Clay, and Storm created the plan to save her during her hanging. Petal had been on standby, ready to help with any wounds they would suffer.

During the second month, Avalanche had been approached by Willo Blazeheart. She had been sick of Cedar's treatment of her and knew for a fact that Sage was simply unfortunate and most of all, innocent. Thus, they hatched a plan for her to create a distraction for Cedar and the crowd.

Possum had been their messenger, while Clay and Storm hid under the gallows. Moon, Owl, and River had stayed with Petal to help if it was required. The rest, namely Possum, Avalanche, Crystal, and Mountain had taken out the guards. Then Avalanche had thrown a knife to cut her noose when she began to hang, saving her life.

The rest was history. Possum snuck back in, taking her possessions back and giving them to her. Among them was the geode that Clay had given her. _It seems like it's been years since he's given me this,_  she mused, letting the crystals catch the light and bounce around the wagon as she did so. A part of her missed the opal her gran had given her.

Sage let loose a sigh and shoved it into her bag, pulling her legs close to her chest. It would take some time to heal the stab wound in her hand and various puncture wounds from needles and the burns on her body. Thorn had decided not to disfigure her face too much, only bruising her face every once and again. He did, however, make an injury that would scar over her left cheek.

Clay had jokingly said that it would make her terrifying to her enemies. She had reddened, stammered, and fled back to the wagon at that point, abruptly overcome with nerves. Petal had patted her back and gave her tea to calm her anxiety.

Possum opened the tent flap, snapping her out of her reverie. Sage lifted her head, blinking at the other woman. "We're here," she told her simply, moving aside to let the brunette out.

She looked out over the hill at the fort; it was in shambles, ancient burn marks on one side. Sage swallowed, a chill sweeping down her spine. "Well," she muttered to herself. "Better than nothing, I suppose,"

With that, she headed down the hill to the fort.

* * *

Sage was tended by Clay and Petal while the rest circuited around the region, bringing back supplies to rebuild. They brought wood and stone and mortar, along with tools. The caravan brought food and clothing for the winter, which was much worse now that they were further north.

Avalanche had also convinced a handful of strong men to come with them, who brought their families to the fort. The men helped rebuild while the women sewed clothing, cooked, tended fires, and other various chores. One man, Robin Dustlake, was a smith, who was teaching his son and daughter the craft.

By Deepsnow, the second month of the year, the inner fort was completely rebuilt. Sage could walk without limping and most of her injuries were completely healed over, except the stab wound in her hand.

It slipped into Winterwane, and though it was still cold, she could tell it was spring. Snow turned to slush and back to slippery ice, which caused a handful of accidents. Thankfully, it was nothing too serious.

It was the second week to the day when Sage abruptly remembered her nameday. "I'll turn nineteen today," she mused quietly as Clay and Storm sat next to her. They exchanged a startled look before turning back to her.

"You're nineteen?" Storm asked with mild shock. "I thought you were..." he paused, lacing his finger together. "Older," Sage shrugged and smiled at him.

"People think that way most of the time," she said simply, reclining in the chair. "It slipped my mind until now, to be honest,"

She let out a sigh as Clay opened his mouth. "Well," he stammered. "Perhaps we should get you some gifts?" Sage smiled wryly at him.

"Whatever you like, Clay," she said demurely. An odd look crossed over his face before fading. Storm shrugged and crossed his arms.

Then, a smile broke out across her face and she burst into laughter. Clay, startled, snorted and began to giggle as well. Storm smirked and let out a short chuckle, before giving into full-blown laughter.

* * *

 

The months trickled by. In late spring, they planted crops and hired the second sons of farmers to help tend to the fields. They built their own houses and hired their own field-hands, alleviating much of the pressure of those running the fort. Avalanche's caravan continued to circuit further and further out, bringing back cotton, livestock, and wool.

Clay, Storm, Petal and several others from the caravan gave her various gifts. It was mostly to replace what she had lost during her journey. Clay gave her a set of throwing knives, Storm a sword, Petal a herb pouch, Possum a bow and quiver of arrows, Crystal gifted her leather armor and underclothing, and Mountain gave her a set of metal bracers and shin guards, eyes downcast as he did so.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him, trying not to look at the man in half fear, half sorrow. He merely nodded and backed away, vanishing behind a pile of crates. Sage deposited everything in her room, watching the small hamlet forming outside of the fort.

Watching the people hurry to and fro, she felt a smile creep onto her face.


	8. Chapter 8

Sage tossed the geode up and down in her hand, resisting a sigh. She ran through what Cedar had told her of why all of this had happened to her.

 _I'm a bastard,_  she thought glumly, almost slamming the stone onto her bedside table, jarring her hand. _Worse yet, I'm the bastard of one of the most honest and loyal men to ever have existed,_

She got up, sighed, and stood, heading to the door. She knew only two people she trusted enough with this. Sage crept out into the hallway, careful not to wake anyone up, as it was night. She wouldn't be able to sleep until she got this mess off her chest.

The brunette snuck into Storm and Clay's shared room, watching them rest for several moments. Then, she took a deep breath and gently woke up Clay, then Storm. Clay jerked so hard he nearly fell off the bed, whilst Storm woke more slowly, blinking lazily at her before getting up.

"What's it you want to talk about?" Storm mumbled, running a hand through his shoulder-length hair. A smile flickered across Sage's face at that - she hadn't taken him for a long-hair kind of man, but it looked good on him. She shook her head quickly, as to dislodge those thoughts and think seriously.

"Well," she managed to say, clearing her throat quietly. "I have a secret to tell you. I learned it at Castle Dusk... from... Cedar," Clay blinked, looked up, blinked again, and let out a sharp, short breath of air.

"What is it then?" He asked gently, putting a hand on her arm. Sage smiled at him shyly and then continued nervously.

"I learned that my father is now deceased, and..." she paused, looking between the two. Storm looked suddenly alert, a frown on his face. "He was the previous Vagonian king; Eagle Duskglade,"

For a moment, there was complete and utter silence. "What?" Clay blurted, eyes wide. "You mean..." Sage nodded, swallowing.

"I won't tell anyone," Storm said softly, blue eyes gentle. "I promise," Clay nodded hurriedly in agreement. Relief washed over her like a waterfall, making her exhale and shudder with the emotion. She glanced up as Clay gently embraced her, pulling her tight to him.

"Thank you," she mumbled into his chest and gestured to Storm. He eyed them awkwardly, then joined the hug, leaving Sage feeling warm and rather safe.

At some point, they moved the mattresses to the floor and fell asleep on those. Sage didn't have nightmares for the first night in a long time.

* * *

Several days later, Sage was peering over Robin Dustlake's shoulder as he worked on two small coins that she had kindly asked him to make. They were identical in shape and size; on one side held a triangle and on the other a circle. With the triangle, it said _Honesty and Trust_. With the circle, it said _Good luck_. It was Thidian tradition to give this to a man or woman you found attractive and wanted to court or wanted to court you. Typically, it was given on festival days or holidays, but Sage believed that this could be an exception

She backed away for several minutes as he placed the disks into the liquid, making them steam and hiss. Both were made of steel, which was fairly uncommon so far north, but she had managed to find enough in the form of one of her daggers.

Sage watched for nigh on another thirty minutes before he handed them to her, still slightly warm to the touch. She grinned at him as he handed her two leather cords, which she quickly looped through the small hole in the top. Then, she hunted down Clay. It wasn't terribly hard, as he was sparring with Storm. Before heading down, she quickly slipped on one of the necklaces.

Sage watched them, admiring their flexing muscles and lithe movements. Which reminded her that she also needed to retrain her body as well. She shook her head as Clay yielded to Storm and put his blade back in the rack. Sage lumbered down the stairs, a smile light on her face.

"Clay," she greeted as she moved over to him. He wiped sweat from his face, beaming at her. "I've something for you. I believe you know what it means," Sage pressed one of the necklaces into his hand and backed away, grin on her face.

He inspected it for a moment, mouth moving and brow furrowed. Then, his head snapped up, eyes wide. "You..." he sputtered. "You mean this is...?" Sage nodded, then all but skipped out of the sparring ring, leaving her friend dumbstruck in the courtyard.

* * *

 

Later, Storm hunted her down. She looked up from the book she was reading, blinking at him as he headed towards her. "I've something to say," he proclaimed.

"What is it?" Sage asked without missing a beat, neatly marking her page, closing the book, and placing it down. She leaned forward, attentive to him.

Storm took a deep breath and looked her square in the eye. "You've done a lot for me," he admitted quietly. "I'm indebted to you, so to speak, and I believe you are worthy of what I am about to do,"

He kneeled before her, visibly nervous. "I wish to pledge my life to protect you," he said gently. "I will be your sword and shield, I will follow you wherever you go, and I will not die until you have died," Storm picked up a blade to cut his palm, but just before he split the skin, Sage stopped him.

"What?" she asked, baffled. "Why would you do this? I am undeserving," Storm smiled wryly at her.

"You are," he murmured gently. "You helped us escape from that arena and believe it or not, helped me through mourning Aspen," he paused. "Whenever I lost hope, I thought of you... and Clay," Tears wells in Sage's eyes and she licked her lips, feeling almost ashamed that he thought she deserved such a thing.

Storm cut his flesh, painting a pattern on his face and her face, and she knew that they mirrored each other. He murmured several words in Taezi, looking her in the eyes with honesty. "It is done," he whispered after a few moments. A chill moved down her back and she shuddered.

"I'll take your word for it, then," she said and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, wrapping her arms around him. Storm stiffened briefly before melting into the hug, his own arms slinking around her middle. Later, he untangled himself from her and left the room, tension gone from his shoulders.

* * *

 

For the next several weeks, Clay courted Sage. It involved some flowers, quick and silent kisses, and sneaking into each others' rooms in the middle of the night to simply hug. Storm seemingly ignored the developing relationship, but nothing really slipped past him. Both Sage and Clay knew this well.

Sage woke as Clay crept into her room, making her roll over. His hulking mass crawled into the bed with her and she wrapped her arms around him, inhaling his familiar scent and pressed her lips to his. A sense of trust and openness rushed over her and Sage closed her eyes.

He let out a soft groan and lifted away for air after several moments. Her eyes opened as he panted, wanting in his voice. "Please," he murmured. "I want _you_ , Sage," There was a pause. "Please," he repeated. A mischievous lit up her face in the dim light.

"Alright," she whispered, rolling so she was on top of him and started to peel off her nightgown, exposing her nude body. His dark gray eyes were wide with surprise as she did so, and she swept down to kiss him. He moaned into her mouth and deepened the kiss, seemingly trying to see how far he could shove his tongue.

She made quick work of his trousers and they were incredibly enthusiastic about the whole event.


	9. Chapter 9

Sage knew that without a doubt that Cedar was likely amassing his own army, so she looked into making her own. Many who had come during the summer were not fighters, only farmers, miners, or had some other similar trade.

Storm followed her like a ghost day and night, writing letters to friends in Taezar to help them fight against the Vagonians. Possum, who ran her own spy ring across the continent, received reports daily that there was a stirring in Vagon. More men were being drafted into the army every day, and there were roughly sixteen thousand men in said army. The fort, which Sage, Storm, and Clay had decided to call Fort Steadfast, had maybe a hundred available men and women that could fight.

Soon, however, several of Storm's friends, including several clan leaders, were sending five hundred men each. By the next summer, they possibly could stand a chance against the Vagonians, but it was relatively slim. Clay went riding from town to town to find people that wanted to fight against them, inspiring them with speeches and those who didn't sway to talk, then he gave them some coin.

A large flux of people flooded the fort every day. Houses and boarding homes sprung up and word quickly spread. The Fiery Hearts, a group of incredibly capable warriors, sent fifty men and women to fight. A Kripani band joined them, wielding curved swords, wanting to fight.

The Thidian queen, Wisteria Evenpeak, had broken off the pact to be made between her son and Cedar's younger sister Iris. She sent a thousand infantry soldiers and a hundred cavalrymen. Evadel had sent no one but the queen's daughter, Kestrel Strongsun, as a test for her child.

Sage stared out over the open field, gobsmacked look on her face. Thidian purple and silver banners flew next to Kripani crimson and gold flags and Taezan brown and white pennants. She licked her dry lips as Storm moved up next to her, looking impressed.

There were about five thousand people there milling around the hodge-podge camp. Taezan teepees next to the militarian Thidian tents next to Kripani yurts dotted the landscape, as well as a handful of tents made of lower-quality materials that signified the militia.

"Perhaps we should make our own banner?" Storm suggested calmly, eyes sweeping over the land. "It wouldn't be good to get the militia mixed up in the rest,"

Sage nodded, cupping her chin with one hand. "I suppose that's true," she murmured, designs flashing through her head. "I believe I have an idea,"

* * *

They tracked down a seamstress; she, Clay, and Storm, to make a banner. It was to be a white background with a red, gold, and orange phoenix rising from a pile of ashes. The background had been Clay's idea; the phoenix Sage's idea; the ashes had been a nice touch from Storm. In all, they had made it, drawing out a rough sketch of it, added rough estimates to the size, and colored it lightly.

She handed it to the woman, smiling as she did so. "Could we have a few of these?" Sage asked politely. "We'll give you all the funds your require and all the help you need to make them," The seamstress looked surprised that /she/ of all people was chosen to take on such a project.

"Of course," the seamstress said, bobbing in a respectful curtsey. "I'll most likely have it done within five months," she told the leaders of the fort seriously. "If you need to find me, my name is Rose Southcreek,"

The trio watched her hurry away with the page. Sage sighed and turned back to the other two. "So," she said. "What exactly is it that we do now?"

Storm shrugged. "We wait," he replied calmly.

* * *

 

So they waited. The Festival of Light spun past in a blur of color and sound. Firemoot and Firewane trickled by slowly, marking the end of summer and beginning of autumn. The harvest started in the middle of Firewane and continued into late Lowsun.

The scents of vegetables being pickled and meat salted filled the air constantly, a reminder of the coming winter. Sage had a feeling deep in her bones that it would not be a mild winter, either. She crossed her arms, looking out over the barren winter fields that had been made into a makeshift training ground.

Men and women alike trained in fake battles, firing arrows and wielding swords. They learned to fight with two swords, axes, hammers, and spears if they could not fight. Many of them learned hand-to-hand combat, Sage among them. The teachers threw her to the ground enough times to break fingers and toes at times.

Sage gazes at the south horizon, trying not to hunch over at the memories of that horrid keep. A hand fell on her shoulder and she felt someone take her hand, which had fallen to her sides. She looked up, seeing Clay and Storm. Then, she looked back south and felt a smile crawl over her face.

There was a sensation of change that filled every man, woman, and child across the continent that used to be North America over three hundred years before. It filled their lungs with false water and their hearts with false fire. Something like stardust flooded their veins. There was only one thing they knew.

Something or someone was coming, following spring like a vengeful god. Those who were religious prayed studiously, anxiously waiting for something they hoped was good. Those who were not could only hope that whatever they felt was simply the chill of winter.

It was and it wasn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that, boys and girls, is a wrap. There may or may not be a sequel.


End file.
